


You're staying with me, then

by joannereads



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: M/M, Non really - Freeform, first kiss kind of a deal, gift request, just a little fluff, no commission was paid, no money exchanged hands, writing this was payment in itself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 18:36:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10366869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joannereads/pseuds/joannereads
Summary: Harvey watches Mike closely as he moves across the hallway towards Rachel. And, while seeing the ridiculous smile on Mike’s face cheers him slightly, the fact that the smile is directed at Rachel instead of him makes him feel a little sick.“I’m heading out,” Donna says as she peers at him from the doorway.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Loyalty2WayStreet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loyalty2WayStreet/gifts).



> Okay, so @cowandcalf on tumblr requested a gift fic for @loyalty2waystreet (on tumblr) as a 'good luck' for an event she has coming up. The prompt was this:  
> "loyalty2waystreet is a dedicated Marvey girl who believes that the guys are deeply in love, not matter what, they just want each other. She loves happy endings, she needs it actually, she loves lots of fluff, some angst to get there and there can be smut, she loves that too."  
> Well, unusually for me there is no smut - but maybe one day I will add to this! For now though, I hope @loyalty2waystreet enjoys the gift!

Harvey watches Mike closely as he moves across the hallway towards Rachel. And, while seeing the ridiculous smile on Mike’s face cheers him slightly, the fact that the smile is directed at Rachel instead of him makes him feel a little sick.  
“I’m heading out,” Donna says as she peers at him from the doorway.  
“See you tomorrow,” Harvey replies, his voice quiet in the darkness.  
“You know, if you had told him like I told you to tell him, you wouldn’t be sitting here moping right now,” Donna says with a sad smile.  
“And I told you that I wasn’t going to come between him and his happiness.” Harvey turns away and stares out across the city. Donna slips away into the night to leave him wallowing.

The thing is, no matter how much he denies it, he knows that she’s right. He had so many chances to say something—anything—but he was afraid. There. He admitted it. He, Harvey Specter, was afraid. And now it’s too late because Mike is going to marry Rachel and be happy with her and have a family. All things Harvey didn’t think he wanted until he met Mike.

He places his now empty tumbler of whiskey on the glass table top and stands up, shrugging on his suit jacket and loosening his tie. Maybe a long shower and a movie marathon will help lift his mood. He calls Ray to pull the car around and steps into the elevator car to begin the slow decent to the ground. And reality.

~*~

Mike stands with his hands on his hips and stares at her. Inside, his anger burns through his veins and bubbles in his gut, but outwardly his hands are calm and his face passive.  
“I’m sorry,” Rachel whispers, her hands wrapped around the glass of wine she was poured when they got home.  
“I just . . . I guess that I never realised this wasn’t on the table,” Mike says.   
“It was, it really was, but the closer I get to being a real lawyer the more I realise that I don’t want to give that up, not for anything.”  
“Why would you have to give it up?” Mike asks, and this time the anger he feels inside spits out alongside his words.  
“No one is going to hire a pregnant lawyer,” Rachel scoffs.  
“You have a job waiting for you—one you’ve always wanted.”  
“I know,” Rachel says, her tone a little too much on the edge of patronising for Mike’s taste. “But, if the firm makes it through the next twelve months I’ll be really surprised. I have to plan my options, my life. This is my life, Mike.”  
Mike goes cold. She has no faith in Harvey? Mike cannot imagine for one second that Harvey would fail. Yet, she believes he will? And what’s that about her life, shouldn’t it be their life?  
“Mike? What are you thinking?” she asks, placing the glass on the table in front of her. She moves to stand, to come towards him, but seems to think better of it.  
“I’m thinking I need to get out of here,” Mike whispers, before spinning on his heel and stalking out of the apartment. He pauses, for just a second, believing that she might follow him or call after him, but the door closes behind him and he is left alone in the corridor.

There’s only one place that Mike would ever go and so, when he finds himself outside Harvey’s door, he allows himself a rueful smile. Pulling the spare key from his pocket—the one he has had since he stayed with Harvey the last time Rachel broke his heart—Mike lets himself in. It’s late, and he’s fairly certain that Harvey will be asleep, but Mike only plans to curl up on the sofa until the morning so it doesn’t matter.  
When Mike turns the corner and finds Harvey on the sofa watching Star Trek he immediately begins to apologise.  
“Hey, Mike!” Harvey snorts, “Calm down. You have a key, you used it, meant I didn’t have to stand up to let you in!”  
Harvey is drunk. Mike can see it in the flush on his cheeks and the slightly glassy eyed stare. Not super drunk, not fall down or vomit or hangover-from-hell drunk, but he’s less inhibited.  
“Come, grab a beer. Talk to me.” Harvey actually pats the space on the sofa next to him and Mike smiles at the goofiness. He does grab a beer from the fridge though, and drops his coat on the back of the chair before slumping down. He toes off his sneakers, props his feet on the table and gets comfy. He and Harvey used to do this all the time—drunken movie nights. Between Grammy’s death and Rachel, they were inseparable.

For the millionth time in the last few months, Mike finds himself missing Harvey even though they are literally breathing the same air.  
“So what’s up?” Harvey asks, turning a little to speak to him.   
“I’m not sure . . . I guess . . . Rachel says she doesn’t want kids and so it is totally over because all I want is a family because I . . . well, you know, all mine are gone, but she’s changed her mind because no one will hire her pregnant and she doesn’t want to put herself through that and she thinks you’ll fail and . . . and—”  
Mike runs out of steam at about the same time that Harvey’s brain starts to catch up with the tumble of words.  
“She said no to children?” he whispers, because the shock of hearing that the one thing everyone knows Mike wants is family and she took that away from him. She’s meant to love him.  
“She said no. Not now, not ever. No.”  
Mike’s voice breaks and he rubs at a stray tear. “So, my fuck up of a life is totally back on track as single and homeless.”  
“You have me,” Harvey says softly, a gentle smile gracing his lips. Mike likes to think that it’s the smile just for him, because he’s never seen Harvey use it in front of others.

To be honest, Mike has known a long time that he sees a different side to Harvey compared with pretty much anyone—including Donna.

“I know I do, Harvey. Let’s watch the Borg and Picard for a while, okay?” Mike places a hand on Harvey’s, a fleeting touch, but Harvey swallows audibly and Mike shivers. Something happened, in those few seconds, by Mike is too emotionally wrung out to explain it and Harvey is too drunk to understand it.  
“Okay,” Harvey replies, before turning back to face the screen and slumping just enough that he can rest his head on Mike’s shoulder.

They watch television into the early hours of the morning. It’s Saturday, anyway, s neither has to get up if they don’t want too, so staying awake late seems like the best plan to help take Mike’s mind off the life that is collapsing around him.

~*~

It’s already after mid-day when Harvey appears from his room. He had slumped off around four am, and Mike had curled up on the sofa and drifted off to the faint sounds of a space battle. It was too much to hope he would sleep though. His active mind woke him around seven, and he’s been playing games on his phone while waiting for Rachel to text and apologise, or for Harvey to wake up—whichever came first.

He has his answer.

“Hey old man!” Mike calls as a decidedly dishevelled Harvey appears around the corner and heads directly for the coffee pot. “I was beginning to wonder if I shouldn’t send a search party in to find you.” Mike smirks but Harvey ignores his efforts. A few moments pass as Harvey fills a mug, stirs in a little sugar, and takes a large gulp of coffee.  
“You staying here then?” Harvey asks and Mike is a little startled.  
“I hadn’t thought about it,” he answers honestly. “I’ve been waiting for her to call, or text.”  
“You’re staying here then.” This time it’s simply a statement. Harvey nods and heads back towards his room. Mike goes back to playing on his phone, but he feels lighter now.

~*~

“Mike!” Harvey yells as the man in question tries to dart past his office.  
“Yes, boss,” Mike says, peering around the door.  
“We need to get to the Anderson meeting. Have you got the paperwork?”  
“Photocopier chewed it,” Mike says bluntly, “But we could retype it on the way.”  
“You can just recite the important bits and Donna can email me a copy when she’s rescued it.”  
The car ride is relaxed; neither feels the need to speak. This is how it’s been for the last couple of weeks. Harvey is still surprised at how easily he’s adapted to having Mike around and in his space. In fact (and some small part of him still hates admitting it), he now knows what going home truly feels like because having Mike in his apartment makes it feel more like home than it ever has before.  
“Harvey?” Mike asks, nudging him a little.  
“Yes?”  
“You were daydreaming or something. It’s taken me three attempts to get you to listen to me. What’s on your mind?”  
Harvey smiles and it lights up his face. Mike can’t help but smile back. “Nothing is on my mind, Mike, I was just thinking about dinner tonight.”  
“Were you going to whip up some culinary masterpiece, or are we getting takeout?” Mike asks.  
“I’m going to take you out. I was thinking we could visit my favourite little Italian place.”  
Harvey waits and Mike swallows, seemingly nervous.  
“But it’s Friday. Friday night. That’s traditionally a date-night time of the week.”  
“Do you have another date?” Harvey asks, willing his voice not to crack. This plan is so early in the formulation stage that he never stopped to think about whether Mike would even be interested.  
“Of course not! But is this . . . are you asking—”  
“Yes, Mike. I am asking you out on a date. What’s your answer?”  
“Yes,” Mike answers, the word barely a breath. He coughs then, shifts in his seat a little. “I mean, I would love to go out for dinner with you.”  
Harvey shivers at Mike’s use of the ‘L’ word but smiles at the man next to him before turning to look out the window at the passing city.  
Meanwhile, Mike—with his heart racing and his breathing shallow—texts Donna in a panic.

-Harvey asked me out on a date. Help!  
\--About time too. What are you wearing?

Donna’s reply startles a huff of a laugh out of Mike and Harvey glances at him suspiciously. Mike just grins and glances back down at his phone.

-Wearing? Did you know about this?  
\--Who do you think has been nagging him to make the first move? You sure as hell weren’t going to.  
-I didn’t even think he liked men!!!!  
\--If you could see me now, my eyes are rolling witheringly, and I am sighing audibly at your lack of social awareness.  
-!!  
\--Wear the blue suit. He likes the colour on you, makes your eyes pop. Have fun!

Mike tucks the phone away and grabs the papers they need for the meeting as they slide up in front of another high-rise, glass monstrosity in the centre of New York.

A date. With Harvey Specter no less.  
He is going to have to try way harder to concentrate this afternoon.

~*~

Mike does wear the blue. Not just because Donna told him to, but because he knows she’s right about it making his eyes bluer in turn.

Harvey, however, he settles for the classic black ensemble and, if he wasn’t so damn nervous, Mike would probably be drooling over him in it.  
“Are you okay?” Harvey asks when they’ve been in the cab for about ten minutes and Mike has yet to utter a single word.  
“Yes, I am more than okay. Just finding it hard to understand why you wanted to take me out. I mean—” Mike pauses abruptly, aware that what he was about to say might demonstrate one of two things: either Harvey is cold, calculating and unfeeling, or Mike is a completely oblivious idiot.  
“I don’t flaunt the fact that I like to sleep with men, Mike, but I would have thought you might have noticed me checking you out on the odd occasion.”  
Mike’s nervous giggle makes Harvey smile in turn.  
“I guess I did, but I always used to tell myself it didn’t mean anything when you watched me a little too long, or glanced at my mouth or . . . or any of those sorts of things. I’m just me.”  
“You are incredible, Mike,” Harvey replies, reaching across and wrapping Mike’s twitchy hands in his own. “Your mind is utterly unique, you can keep pace with me, and you are the most open and expressive person I’ve ever met, other than Louis. But his openness is just on the edge of creepy. I want to do this with you. Let’s just see how it goes, okay? No pressure. Just dinner.”  
Mike nods and Harvey releases his hands slowly. Mike misses the warmth and comfort immediately.

~*~

“You didn’t!” Mike gasps, tears threatening to spill as his laughter rings out. Harvey has been regaling him with stories of his Harvard days and Mike can’t remember the last time he laughed so much. Harvey has laughed too, but he seems to have enjoyed Mike’s laughter more than telling the stories.  
“You never did anything like that while you were in college – all high and drunk?” Harvey asks, his face a mask of seriousness only betrayed by the sparkling of his eyes.  
“No. I can categorically say that I never did anything quite like that.” Mike takes a sip of the wine and notices Harvey staring.  
“What?” he asks, worrying that he has somehow done something wrong.  
“I wish we had done this sooner. It’s been years, Mike. We’ve had dinner, yes, but never with the potential that it could be something more between us. And I know it’s early, and I don’t usually share my feelings in any way, but I’m sorry I wasted so much time.”  
Mike stares at Harvey, who is suddenly sombre, and the flush from the wine is gone from his cheeks in an instant.  
“When we met, we weren’t ready. I was a mess, an idiot, a kid I suppose. And you? You were closed off, arrogant and distant. You still are,” Mike continues with a grin, “but you’ve let me behind that cover and I know that your loyalty and passion run deeply. We couldn’t have done this then.”  
“And now?” Harvey asks.  
“And now I’ve grown up. Prison will do that to you! And you’re dealing with your demons. Perhaps now we can look at ‘more’ because we can handle it.”  
“Everything?” Harvey asks softly.  
“What do you mean?”  
“You still want a family. That’s a deal breaker for you.”  
“I guess so. But this is a first date, Harvey, not a contract negotiation. We don’t have—”   
“I want that too. A family, I mean. And I would do that with you.”  
Mike wants to cry, because the man he already thinks of as family wants to expand that idea with him. Mike reaches over and strokes his thumb across Harvey’s cheek bone. Harvey leans into the touch.  
“I don’t know what to say,” Mike whispers.  
Harvey leans across the table slowly, carefully, as though warning Mike of his intentions so that he can change his mind. Mike is never going to do that though, never going to change his mind, because he has wanted this longer than he had even realised.  
The first press of lips over their dessert is warm, soft and full of the promise that there is more to come. Mike’s eyes slip shut and he commits every sensation to memory. Harvey tries hard to smother the impulse to drag Mike across the table and drown in him. Mike is the first to pull back.  
“Well,” he says, a little breathless. “That seemed to go pretty well.”  
Harvey stands up, throws a pile of notes onto the table, grabs Mike’s wrist and begins tugging him toward the door.  
“I’m guessing that going slow isn’t going to be a continued pattern!” Mike teases. Harvey simply grabs his wrist a little tighter before pushing him into a waiting cab and ordering them home.


End file.
